
Book ■H?67 _S4 



Copyright]^ 



10 



4il 



CiJPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



SEVEN STARS 

AND OTHER 

POEMS 

By CLARE SHIPMAN 




JOHN J. NEWBEGIN 

SAN FRANCISCO 

M CM XVIII 






Copyright 

CLARE SHIPMAN 

San Fnndico. 1918 



CCT -9 !9I8 



'Oci.A506il3 



>vi^ I 



s 



TO HER IN THE INVISIBLE 



CONTENTS. 

Page 

FOREWORD vii 

TO HER IN THE INVISIBLE 1 

THE SUN 4 

THE BLAZED TRAIL 6 

ASCENSION 7 

PEACE 8 

MARCH FILIGREE 9 

THE MOON 10 

IN A TROPIC GARDEN . 12 

TO JULIE 13 

MERCURY 14 

SEA-GULLS 15 

THE DESTROYING ANGEL 16 

FROM SEA TO SEA 17 

VENUS 19 

THE QUEST ETERNAL 20 

VALENTINE 22 

THE TORCH . 23 

THE HOMING PIGEON 24 

DOGWOOD 25 

MARS , , 26 

IRIS 28 

BALLAD TO FRANCE 29 

JUPITER . 33 

GOLD HEART 35 

ON A PORTRAIT OF THE YOUNG EARL OF C . 36 

THE ISLAND KING 37 

V 



CONTENTS. 

Page 

SATURN 38 

TO MY POET FRIEND 39 

LINES ON A GOLDEN WEDDING .... 40 

THE BLANKET-MEN ON THE HIGHWAY ... 41 

DUSK 42 

DAWN .42 

URANUS 43 

PARADOX 45 

THE CUP 46 

INTEGER VITAE 47 

NEPTUNE 48 

THE GUEST 51 

NAMASTA 52 

UPLANDS 54 

TO ANY GALAHAD 55 

THE BEDOUIN IN THE DESERT .... 56 

OUT OF THE MISTS 57 

SEA VOICES 59 

ALLEN SEELEN 61 

SILENCE 62 

MOUNTAIN LILAC 63 

WILD FORGET-ME-NOTS 64 

LOBELIA 65 

CHELA 67 

ST. JOSEPH'S LILY 68 

THE URGE 69 

TO A LITTLE BOY GROWN UP 70 

CHIMES 71 

SONG OF CANDLE-LIGHT 12 

TO BENNIE ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY . , . , 1Z 

SONG 74 

TO MY COMRADE-AT-ARMS 75 

vi 



FOREWORD. 

It seems at this time as if the world has swung around 
to the ancient language of symbols. We have always 
had them, indeed, but in process of time their spirits 
departed and left them as husks on our hands, and even 
prodigals in far countries of materialistic thought and 
conduct eventually lose interest in husks. The letter 
profits nothing without the quickening spirit. How many 
custodians of that sacred symbol, the square and the 
compass, are able to relate it inwardly to the soul of the 
race? Has the swing of the Gothic arch, or the color 
of Mary's azure cloak a living place in the life of the 
church adherent? Do attributes in his soul answer to 
the apocryphal signs of the Man, the Lion, the Eagle 
and the Bull, carved upon his altar panels? 

The forever defensive theologian does not often put into 
his discourse the esoteric lesson of the streets of gold, the 
gates of pearl, or, to go back to the old dispensation, of 
Egypt, Moses's rod, the Red Sea and Canaan. But 
these things, as the wise Paul said of some other things, 
**are an allegory." Truth shines her light upon friend 
and foe alike and needs neither defense nor argument. 
The cobra cap of the Buddha may reveal the same 
truth as the serpent of Egypt, and the Lotus upon which 
he dreams, the ineffable message of the Easter lily. 

Back in the ancient days of inner wisdom there came 
flashes of understanding revealed in myths, legends, 
fables and fairy lore. The Devas of the Hindoos, the 
Daimons of the Greeks, the Divinities of the Romans 
and the Angels of the Hebrews all prove the groping of 
the soul of the race of mankind to connect with its 
source, or with the abstract, hidden realm of the Spirit. 

vii 



The subconscious streams of tradition came out of a 
fundamental truth of being, that the changeless Infinite 
and indivisible Source, being a Unit, forever expresses 
itself in diversity and is equal to the sum of all its at- 
tributes. 

The poems on the planets are written with the basic 
idea that each individual is a microscopic pattern of the 
universe, and that within him, potentially or expressed, 
is all that lies without. The ultimate destiny of the 
race-man is to bring into expression, through evolution, 
the Grand Man, the Universal or Christ principle, God 
Incarnate in the Son. 

The sun, the center of the solar system, being the 
source of all life, is the outer sign of the invisible God, 
the image, as it were, by which the sun worshipper 
hoped to connect with his source. In the life of the 
individual, the sun would be the Son, the Soul, 
the Self. The moon, called by the ancients the "mir- 
ror," would be the outer or objective mind or intellect, 
having no light or wisdom of its own, but reflecting 
merely the one mind, "common to all men.** 

Mercury is the inner or intuitive faculty of mind 
which would seem apart from reason, flying where it 
v/ill upon its spirit wings. Its truth is ever consistent 
with reason, but its source deeper. Venus is that qual- 
ity of grace in Man's soul which discerns and compre- 
hends the beautiful, and so brings order out of chaos, 
turning angles into the rhythmic curve which is receptive, 
subjective and feminine. Mars is her opposite pole 
in consciousness, the warrior, the masculine creative prin- 
ciple, passionate, bold, the positive and constructive in 
art, when functioning in his true place. 

viii 



Jupiter, magnanimous and benign, is also diffusive, 
expansive, generous and the dispenser of good gifts, 
holding good luck in his right hand. Saturn in the Cos- 
mos corresponds to the outer realm of the physical and 
is called the "first born" because farthest in expression 
from the center. Also he is called the guardian of the 
outer gate, the ruler of the world of matter, standing 
with scythe and hour glass at that mystical point where 
cause and effect meet. He is seldom loved or wel- 
comed because he is the law, the Reaper. Old, fixed, 
slow of movement, because first born, he is, in the indi- 
vidual. Destiny. He releases through the outer gate 
that initiate only who is strong enough to be at one with 
him and know his majesty. 

Uranus and Neptune are of but recent discovery and 
would seem to be prophetic of new faculties of mind to 
come. Uranus is the power of occult discernment and 
is called the Knower, the unveiler of Truth. Its action 
is to tear away delusions at any cost, and remove 
hindrances to spiritual growth, no matter how dear the 
false gods have become. The throne of Uranus is at 
that point in understanding where opposite? meet and are 
seen to be one. 

Neptune stands for the hidden Christ, or Sonship un- 
manifest. It is nebulous in character and not understood 
of the world, like the subtle overtones of the music of 
sweet strings, vague and uncomprehended by the material 
mind. Folded within its character lie all the secrets of 
the mystics of the ages. 

All qualities, normally expressed, are good. Only 
when they are deflected or disproportioned may they 
appear, to surface analysis, evil. Through the under- 
standing of true values, the laws of balance, as applied 

ix 



to consciousness, the primal edict which pronounced all 
things very good, shall manifest. The seven planets 
have been compared to seven lamps swinging forever 
before the sun god's throne, or to the seven prismatic 
rays, which, when combined, form the white light of 
the sun and are never really apart, save in expression, 
but each an attribute of the One. 

This One is All. I am no pagan or pantheist setting 
forth false gods, but recognizing merely that through 
the understanding of our own complexities and qualities 
we may, through consecration of will, evolve and unify 
them and so stand forth as Sons, not servants in bonds. 

The miscellaneous poems in this book are grouped 
under the heads of the planets which they seem to man- 
ifest in quality. p « 

Saa Fraaciico. 



SEVEN STARS 



o 



TO HER IN THE INVISIBLE. I 

MOST beloved, how is it possible ^ 

The heart of me should feel that I have lived ^ 

Ever one hour without you, ; 

Into whose life my life was woven at first ] 

As but a tiny leaf in a design! \ 
How could the woof remain with warp withdrawn? 

You have not gone! 
You have not gone, since I would cease to be. 

You, you and I were threaded firm and close, i 

Into the fabric Life! j 

i 

Back in the dawn of days your face was there, 3 

One with the sunrise; \ 

One with soft coverlids in the cool dark. j 

The last sound of the day some trailing note I 

Of your low-singing voice in the white sails 
Of drifting sleep. 

Unchanging love has not forgotten how \ 

The fine, white sinew of yourself you wove j 

Into the little buttonholes, and edge * 

Of sheer and misty garments that I wore. 

And how you smoothed and folded them away 

Under the lamplight of the ended day. I 

-J 

Only through your eyes did I see at first 

The sombre beauty of red autumn leaves • 

Wet with October rain, — ; 

The bitter-sweet solemnity of pain, ] 

1 'i 



Or the joy-thrill of rising sap astir 

In the moist trunks of maples when the world 

Believed that it was locked in winter-time. 

The watchful tenderness and thrift that kept 

Glowing with bloom the little, even row 

Of growing things upon the window sill, 

that, — I hear you laugh when I have said 
That diligence, I never made my own. 
You took so sweetly all my wayward faults 

That must have wounded deep, had you loved less. 

1 would not wrong your unchained spirit now 
With thoughts too sad, which was so often glad 
As larks and linnets and bright butterflies. 

With thoughts that played like sun-darts on the face 
Of mountain streams. 

The rush of rain upon the roof at night 

I hear now, even in sleep, because you loved 

The rhythm of the rain. 
All, all you lived and loved and felt made glow 
For me the hidden song that latent lies 
In everything, like the internal fires 

Within the breast of Earth. 
Until I too, caught fire with that divine 
And nameless thing which lit you. 
Incarnate as the poetry of life. 



And then your selflessness opened wide arms 
And let me free upon my own far-faring. 
If I kept faith with Courage on the way 
It was the loaf of truth you shared with me 
On which I fed my strength as with the fire 
Of your strong spirit. 

If I have learned the magic of Love's way 

It is your deathless love loving again. 

Did you not give your all, and is it strange 

Passion for service, urge of high endeavor 

Should break to flame, when fire is touched by fire? 

And so it is impossible for me. 

Most dearly loved, to think I ever live 

One little hour without you, who have been. 

With strong hands and true voice, this long time still. 

All I shall build and bind and hold of good. 

Is yours to take again because you gave — 

Life infinite, good indivisible. 

This, most beloved, your immortality. 



JANUARY, 1916. 



o 



THE SUN. 

The Sun of Righteousness shall rise, with healing in His wings. 

GOD OF PERFECT DAY, shine on our sorrow 
As on the seven swinging spheres you shine! 

We wait, as Thou hast waited, for a morrow 
That still must glow, on every world of Thine. 

Rise swift in us, who let the night possess us! 

Before our tomb stands sealed the graven stone. 
Though long the night of ignorance oppress us. 

We are Thy sons, and Thou art God alone. 

O teach us life who art the One Life only! 

The meaning of its sacramental flame. 
And that we have a heritage of Christhood, 

And that we wear, e'en now. Thy Holy Name! 

Though we forget Thee, yet there broods Thy patience; 

We curse and slay, and still Thy love endures. 
O God of Day, the world's pain is its penance; 

Then guard and keep them, whom the darkness lures! 

The sweet and sunlit, fragrant earth Thou gave us 
We've bought and sold, and dyed and drenched 
it red. 

And Thou alone hast any power to save us. 
Who let each other perish, wanting bread! 



We know, yea, God, we know that there are children 
Born in the flesh, of Thee, a tragic brood. 

Wearing our life, and Thine, the common Father, 
Who never know Earth's tender motherhood! 

Hunted they go, and by the wolf of hunger. 
Blurred with sin's fingermark, unloved, misspent. 

We meet them on the highway, God of Mercy, 
And pass them by, our own, and we consent! 

****** 

What is our solace, but that Thou art mighty! 

To Thee, worlds come and go as human tears. 
And live and crumble, stars to dust returning. 

Thy light is on the seven swinging spheres! 



La Jolla, July 31, 1915. 



THE BLAZED TRAIL. 

SAW the sun go down, go down. 
To walk the purple sea. 

Wearing a shining, glorious crown. 

About his head a glow like One 
Who walked on Gallilee. 

A milk-white cloud his seamless robe. 

Woven of drifting fleece. 
A moment on the ocean's rim 

He floods the world with peace. 
I saw a molten trail of light. 

His path upon the sea. 
As gleaming down the Ages* night. 
The feet of One flash burning-bright. 

Through Man's mortality. 



ASCENSION. 

THERE is no hour the soul may close its sight 
To life unbroken, for when action ends 
It is as if one note the player spends 
Is caught into the next, where motives rise 



And so repeat themselves an octave higher. ^ 

Only the foolish halt and think work done. j 

Nothing is finished, every thread leads on, t 

And though the weak may fight, the strong may lire. | 

The bright wheel swings, with all its gleaming stars, | 

Nor life nor death, free wing nor prison bars 

Have power to stay the rhythm of its way. 

Inviolate Life ascends till themes repeat, '] 

High, in clean, wind-swept towers of past defeat, 

Chiming, as morning stars sing of the day. 



T 



PEACE. 

OSSING cypress boughs. 
Black, tasseled cypress boughs 

And fringed willow. 
With tender leaves of pale, translucent light. 
And flowering currant, lovely burning bush. 

Ablaze with God, — 
Here on my periwinkle bed 
Smelling fresh stems and leaves, 
I let my soul slip out and walk 
The waters of this still lagoon. 
Trailing her garments of sweet peace. 
Singing her praise for this brief hour 
Of sunlit silence, where Love lives. 

And perfect rhythm. 

Only the winds are restless. 

Flinging a chill like bright, quick laughter. 

But close against the earth breast 

There are fortitude and warmth. 
The glowing, steadfast pulse of faith beats high. 
Somewhere within the inner realms of God, 
Well-being rests her tranquil arms 

Upon her mother-breast. 
And guards the world from its own fallacies. 



o 



MARCH FILIGREE. 

SILVER world of silver light! 

O new day, fresh, unspoiled and fair! 
Grasses are woven crystal lace. 

West winds sway jeweled boughs in air. 

O blinding light on snow-filled meadows — 
White fields stretch to the osage hedge. 

Swaying its top to icy music. 

A red bird calls above the sedge. 

Sheathed cherry boughs in shining armor, 
A flash of wings across the blue. 

To gem-tipped briar and grassy tangle. 
With silver thread all woven through. 

Warm courage in the robin's breast. 
For frozen worlds, a moment long. 

Trumpeter of sweet April-time, 
He flings his prophesy of song. 



o 



THE MOON. 

LIGHT O* LOVE. O little feather moon. 

Pale as white roses are, 
Flung in the harsh light of the summer noon 

Above the hill-tops far. 

Frail, and so light and thin. 

Tossed on the ocean sky. 
With no port to come in, 

With not a harbor by. 

O little vagrant moon. 

Fragile and useless thing. 
Tossed in a waste of worlds. 

Frayed from a passing wing. 



And now she wears a burnished silver band. 

Beauty hath found her as her days have grown, 
And in the youthful dreams of twilight land. 



She claims a vision which is not her own. \ 

Only in romance skies of make-believe, | 

When the soft, velvet dark enwraps the soul, \ 

May borrowed light, masking as truth, deceive. I 

As holy lire the false Prometheus stole. ^ 

10 ? 



And she is false if she shall claim to reign i 

Even at the magic hour she climbs her height, j 

The jeweled planets in her splendid train, | 

Sweeping her royal pomp across the night. 'i 



And she is true when she shall serving stand. 
Meek, girded hand-maid of the lowly soul. 

Holding all cleansed and empty in her hand, 

Rimmed to full circle, her bright, burnished bowl; 

Seeing before her face no path to tread 

But the white orbit of the sun god*s way. 

Knowing no light but his upon her head. 

His sea of silver, from her chalice shed. 

Until night's empty cup brims with the day. 



11 



N 



IN A TROPIC GARDEN. 

OT cold and distant stars, but close and warm 
As gleaming jewels upon a dear-loved throat. 
Such are the smiling stars above my Islands, 
Dipping their rays into the languorous waves 
That run upon the coral from the warm sea. 

Not moonlight cold, but a soft, liquid silver 

Dripping from tips of palm leaves. 

Flooding upon the garden, 

Pouring a silent glory and a glamor 

On the Soul, until it knows the face 

Of Beauty in her holiness laid bare. 

Spirit of Beauty Visible! Such is the face of God! 

And God v/alks in the garden in the coolness of the day. 

And time is not, nor age, nor hate, nor death. 



Oahu, 1917. 



12 



L 



TO JULIE. 

IKE petals of white roses, 

Soft footprints in the snow, i 

Or spray of early starlight, I 

Or surf with light aglow. 

Like breasts of tender winged things, ' 

Or sheen of frost-spun lace, ] 

Come memories and memories \ 

Of moonlight on your face. \ 

The cool, sweet rush of palm leaves, ] 

Strange shadows on the grass, i 
Beyond, the waiting desert, 

The blue night swinging past. 

The hush of waning summer, ; 

Warm frankincense of bloom, I 

I build of these, for memories, ■ 

A vast and vaulted room. \ 



13 



H 



MERCURY. 

ALF god and half mortal I seemed, 
And the mortal was craven, and veered 

At the vast of the unknown abyss. 

The granite is sound to the feet of the mortal. 

And real is the Earth-mother*s kiss. 
It was the unknown that I feared. 

The Lord of my being did promise me wings 
Should I leap from the lap of strong, external things. 
And I dared, and the God bore me up with his arm. 
And I flew in the vv^ide, windy sky! 

As the light of the star and the glow-worm is one. 
The flame at the heart of the atom went free. 

Unchained to return to its home in the sun. 
Self-conscious, to choose and to be! 

No darkness dismays him who flames his own light. 
I make the abyss to appear as the height. 
I speed, and the span of my God-given flight 
Binds the earth to the Spirit of things. 

I flash in the glance, of pure, star-lifted eyes, 

I swing with the fairness and grace of the morn. 

To my penetrant sight matter's veil of disguise 
Is rent and man's freedom is born. 

14 



D 



SEA-GULLS. 

O YOU remember how they drifted out 

Into the wide infinity of sky, 
Without a quickened tremor of the wings, 

Free of their moorings, brave and silently? 
Do you remember how they drifted out 

From the black cliffs, into the rain and mist. 
Above the fretted sea, so safe, so high. 

Their flight unmeasured, pathless and unguessed! 



15 



THE DESTROYING ANGEL. \ 

■i 

ARROWS of light, arrows of light! * ; 

These are the shafts that I hurl through the night! | 

Straight as the archer's eye wooeth the mark, ^ 

Swifter than meteors piercing the dark. i 

What power shall stay their miraculous flight, ] 

Arrows of infinite light! '; 

Measureless gleams from the Spirit's white ray. 
These are the beams that I speed through the day! 
Sure as the wings of the morning arise. 
Strong as the light on the dreamer's closed eyes. 

What flesh shall bar the Omnipotent beam, j 

Smiter of pain's troubled dream! ] 



16 



FROM SEA TO SEA. 

FURZY glens and brooks and maples, 
Beech tree forests, still and sweet. 
With their golden garments fallen. 

Airy skirts, about their feet. 
Stacked corn like brown wigwams standing, 

Feathered broom-sedge, fallow field, I 

Shafts of light through slanting orchards, ' 

Stripped of summer's fragrant yield. 
Cotton fields and young pine forests. 

Still, deep rivers, silver rain, \ 

Live oaks green and strong and vital, i 

And the flaming sun again. 
Bayous and the night-black cypress, j 

Woods knee-deep in crystal pool. 
Trailing lichens fringed and lace-like, i 

Cloth of gold and shadows cool. j 

Sunrise through the waiting tree-trunks, ' 

Velvet plains of springing wheat, : 

Resting orchards, feeding cattle, I 

Where the sky and grasses meet. j 

Brown, parched plains, repeating over ^ 

Thirst, to the unanswering sky. j 

Swift the wild hare's run to cover, ] 

And the white stars going by. I 

Shadows in the purple canyons, i 

And the white light on the trails. i 

M i 



Free the wind, the cloud, the distance. 

Clear the rhythm of the rails! 
Down the long sides of the mountain. 

Where the firs wear purple light. 
Deep into the forest vistas 

Till the hiding, folding night. 
Plains of green and fenced-in cities. 

Pungent scent of pepper tree, — 
Swift as wind clouds I am running 

To the sea, Love, to the sea! 
And the world Love's wings encompass, 

Mountain, river, forest, plain. 
Lies within your strong heart's cover. 

Back to you I come again! 



18 



VENUS. 

RT THOU but flesh of pearl, the tint of shell. 

Form perfected, born of the formless sea? 
Revealed and visioned side of abstract Love, 

The thing men blind adore, or hating flee? 

Wear you at times a strange and sordid guise 
Woven of misery and cankering lust? 

The prisoned Self within your languored eyes. 
As lilies bruised and broken in the dust. 



O Beauty, Color, Form, the senses leap! 

But the still, brooding Spirit answers thee 
As though the Deep had called unto the deep 

To yield its dead and set its prisoners free. 

O Love, thine arms but lure the soul at last 
Adown the spiral of swift-winging years. 

And point the inner portal, strong and fast. 
Which opens when one Guest alone appears. 

The heart is made into an open sky. 

Beyond the realm of good and evil things. 
And joy and tears, glowing and lifted high. 

One stands, where slow the silver crescent swings. 
Her gleaming head all diademed with stars. 
Her azure cloak wrapping the gaunt earth's scars. 

19 



B 



THE QUEST ETERNAL. 

To G. M. W. 
EAUTY Divine, so long we have pursued! 

See how the vanquished, stricken Ages lie. 
Lamenting in their ashes, spent and old. 

Where open, empty arches frame the sky. 
So brief your reign, so swift your passing by. 

Your radiant hour, departing, left them cold. 
Save for a dear caress upon old walls. 
Or saffron sunlight, wrapping where it falls 

Some crumbling column, turning it to gold. 

Still down your age-long corridors we come. 

Pursuing eagerly your fleeting pace. 
Beyond a bend of vistaed colonnade 

Longing to glimpse your sweet, averted face. 
Ever within your labyrinths of peace 

We trace with broken ray your fragrant lure. 
Braving the gulfs of barrenness and dearth. 

With hearts afire, with footsteps winged and sure. 
Until a sudden, holy light shall flame 

Out of a vaster height, a loftier span. 
Piercing at last our holden, straining sight, 

Revealing you within the heart of Man. 
And we shall see you plainly through the mire 

Of that which binds and covers tender things. 
Above the place of effort meekly spent. 

Shall know the brooding presence of your wings. 

20 



And when you reach to us a hallowed hand. 
Shall we not feel it work-worn flesh and bone? 

Your broken guise shall fall and you shall claim 
Our weary questing, even as your own. 

Beauty Divine, Eternal One who lies 
Wistful and fair, in the pursuer's eyes. 
Yet shall we feel the glow of your embrace. 
Yet shall you turn and know us face to face. 



Looking through Exposition Arches. 



January 10, 1916. 



21 



VALENTINE. 



DEAREST, are wind-flowers glad when melts the snow? 



When Winter comes do swallows southward go? 

Do roses scent the drowzing days of June? 
When the leaves fall do robins hush their tune? 

Do winter woods long for their leaves again? 
Do thirsty flower-lips drink the Summer rain? 

Do prisoned moths crave wings of butterflies? 
Do meadows smile when daffodils arise? 

And if you know the answer. Love of mine. 
Would I, O would I be your Valentine? 



22 



THE TORCH. 

'RUST you to Love and never think to fear him. 

Follow you close the light of his white flame. 
The trail is safe, his lamp is trimmed and burning. 

Hold you the password of his Holy Name. 

Love's lamp is filled with smokeless oil of gladness. 

Love holds his beacon high when hearts are true. 
Trust Love, the trail is safe, the way is shining. 

Believe in Love, who burns the light for you. 



23 { 



THE HOMING PIGEON. 

S HOMING pigeons wing them home 
'Straight to your roomy heart I come! 
And you dream not how very far, 
Unbounded by the farthest star. 
Such love as yours can stretch away. 
Out to the borders of the day, 
Beyond the purple fringe of night 
Wings love like yours so warm and white! 
It wraps me in a robe of fleece. 
It makes the sound of heart-storms cease. 
As homing pigeons wing them home. 
Straight to your roomy heart I come. 



24 



M 



DOGWOOD. 

ILK-WHITE spray on the forest bough. 

The fragrant year is young. 
White hearts touch beneath the bloom. 
Eagerly Love's feet seek room 
Anemones among. 

BHthest notes blow down the wind. j 

The nimbus of the spring j 

Folds the forest glade in mist, I 

Emerald and amethyst, j 

Sweet and shimmering. J 

'i 
White spray on the forest bough. 

White stars of the world. 
Lift Love into silent things, [ 

The only sounds are stirring wings 

And new-born leaves uncurled. 



25 



MARS. 

A NGEL of Action, god of all brute strength, 
^ *• Master of souls, snared on the sea of Sense, 
Caught in thy maelstrom of malevolence, 
Shall they an harbor find. 
Beaten and blind? 



As every whirling storm hath one still place 
At its true center, so within me lies 
Unslumbering, the calm of watching eyes. 

As One who moves upon the waters' face. 

Call me then friend, whose fires have fused the stone. 
Mountain and furrow, strong, creative One! 
My shining armor and the splendid gleam 

Of mailed arms, streamers of red desire. 
Flashing upon the weak and strong alike. 

But kindle life to sacramental fire. 

Call me then mighty friend, nor name me foe. 

Take of my strength and meet me as mine own. 
Lest I with the destroying angel's blow 

Shall smite thee, flesh and bone! 

26 



Children of Mars, be swift to flame the light 
Of Knowledge, pouring in the oil of peace. 

Whose touch transmutes red watch fires to clear white. 
Like leaps across to like, till wars shall cease. 

Above your towers and battlements shall fall 

Clear showers of starlight and pale, dreaming skies. 

Breathing of flowers shall bathe your fevered eyes 
Till swift they sense the One who lives in all. 

And weighted flesh on free, glad wings shall rise. 



2/ 



w 



IRIS. 

HEN May and June have linked their petalled fingers 
Across the garden, and the year is glad, 

Down where a butterfly or gold bee lingers, 
And lilac scent has made the air half sad. 

There rise from out the midst of spear and sword blade. 
The banners of the lily maid of France. 

As once they floated from her battle standard, 
Unrent by arrow point or spear or lance. 

The white flag is the banner of her white heart. 
The purple mourns her death, the shame of kings. 

When m.en forget the martyred, broken body, 
A flower shall droop its silken, petal wings. 

The gold flag is the shining of the glory 

Emblazoning her name, immortally. 
The white, the purple and the golden banners. 

Earth lifts each year to her sweet memory. 



28 



BALLAD TO FRANCE. 

THE air is soft as willow buds. 
How cool the shadows play! 
How sweet, how sweet, O tender Christ, 
The wonder of the May! 

The clover breath, the poplar wind. 

How spirit pure are they! 
Such dreams, they weave a pennon 

To the wonder of the May! 

Such dreams they are so heaven-true. 

They build a portal wide 
Into the upper airs of God 

Where mysteries abide! 

They build a magic portal, 

Where a sudden shaft shines through. 
The light is gleaming golden 

On the leafage and the dew. 

O tender Christ, how wonderful 

The marvel of her brow. 
And wrapt the eyes that meet the light 

That gleams the meadows now! 

29 



How petal-white the little breast 

Under the dull-spun fold, 
As veiled things the angels keep 

For pure eyes to behold! 

How like still forest pools her eyes. 
And clear and sure their look, 

And swift and glad her serving feet 
As any singing brook. 

And who shall speak how soft, how fine 

The tender heart of her! 
The sheep and little lambs she kept. 

Less meek and lowly were. 

Less soft and winter-white their fleece 

Than all her gentle mind. 
And the white prayers of fragrant peace 

It winged upon the wind! 

O wings of great archangels. 
How fervid bright your sheen! 

No self is intercepted 

God and her soul between. 

You may ascend and descend 

The shining, glorious stair 
Built of her prayers, built of her thoughts 

Because they are so fair. 

30 



Voices of great archangels. 
You sound as true and clear 

As larks of her own meadows 
The peasant children hear. 

Give of your strength, give of your might 
Since you have made the quest. 

And guard and keep the frailness 
Of the tender brow and breast. 

The ways of men and wars are harsh. 

The clasp of silver mail. 
Could bruise a lily bud to death. 

As petals droop and fail. 

She is a snow-white, climbing rose 
Whose tendrils touch the sky. 

Upon the city wall the rain 
Of steel has passed her by. 

The hail of spears has fallen 
And hell has blown its breath! 

O God the awful pity 

Of the blood and pain and death! 

God's be the glory for the might 

Of truth and purity! 
How different is the blackened night 

From Spring in Domremy! 

31 



And none are brave who are not pure. 

Only the meek are strong, 
Undying in a world of death 

The endless ages long! 

Swings high her lily banner, 

Beckons her lifted lance, 
Above her unforgotten fields. 

Somewhere in bleeding France. 



August, 1914. 



32 



I 



JUPITER. 

"I have made thee rich. Why 

makest thou thyself poor?" 

BLAZE my light upon their battened door. 
They neither see nor rouse them from the sleep 
That drugs the flesh, wrapped in its rags of sense. 
Nor heed how I, my flaming vigils keep. 
Their roots are struck in clay, on husks they feed. 
Consumed of heartbreak, mad with discontent; 
Heaven-clear my beacon burns above their need. 
Into their depths my silver light is sent. 

There is a vision far and far beyond 
The place of pity, where I flash my rays. 

pity that they brought the blight of greed. 
And lost their vision of the living springs 
Which press their low, half-whispered want to feed. 
They have reared bulwarks out of self and sense. 
Out of the sands of unredeemed desire. 

Their children hate, and live with bitterness. 
Upbraiding Justice prisoned in the mire. 

1 wait for him who says "I will arise," 
Unfolds the wrappings from his splendid soul. 
And washes clean the clay from his blind eyes, 
And out of matter lifts a treasured goal. 

33 



I wait for this birth-hour which shall reveal 

The firmament beneath his body's cloak, 

Wherein I glow, a deep-set, buried jewel, 

As acorns wrap the branches of the oak. 

When he shall cease to blame the sting of want. 

The stain of squalor and the cramping grind 

Of drudgery, and all the outer cause. 

And in himself my gleaming beauty find. 

Lending his lowly roof, breaking his crust to share. 

Knowing the thrill of service meekly given. 

My light shall burn its way through all his bonds 

And bind him to the morning star of heaven. 

And be the touchstone in himself revealed, 

A saving arm its level, lightning beam. 

Pouring all lasting riches in his hands. 

Who wakes from out his heavy, earth-bound dream. 



34 



o 



GOLD HEART. 

LITTLE sister Gold Heart, 

Of tender witchery, 
I long ago had lost the fight 

Had you not trusted me. 
You speak the name of Courage 

And I am strong as ten. 
You only hint you love me, 

I rise like fighting men. 
You only point a narrow way 

Straight as the Christ-man trod. 
And flaming forth, a blinding ray 

Connects my mind with God. 

O little sister Gold Heart 
Out pouring all your gold. 

Life guard you and return to you 
Your own gifts manifold! 



35 



ON A PORTRAIT OF THE YOUNG EARL 
OF C . 

SWEET as the prince in books of fairy tales, 
With the far look of child dreams in your eyes, 
What do you see of valorous deeds to do 
Under your English skies? 

Terror of dragons, moats impassable, 

Wrongs of the weak and innocent to right. 
Have these all passed into the yesterdays 

With sword and belted knight? 

Most fairly fashioned and made beautiful 

With such sweet youth, what valorous deeds to do. 
What wrongs to right with all the princely grace 
Life has bestowed on you? 



Shawinigan, Quebec, 1903. 



36 



A 



THE ISLAND KING. 

WREATH on your head of ilima and maile, ] 

The rain on your face, in your throat a soft song, ' 

A laugh on your lips, in your heart the aloha, 

A gift in your hand as you wander along. ; 

O big, kindly child of your laughter-lit islands, | 

You dance in the light and you play in the sea, I 

Who have given your kingdom away to the stranger, ; 

To win an inheritance greater than he. 

Majestic and beautiful child of the chieftains. 

With nothing of earth and the bearing of kings. 
So happy, so tragic, care-free of tomorrow. 

The gold's in your heart as you sing to your strings. | 



Honolulu, January 27, 1917. 



37 



SATURN. 

LOW-MOVING, quiet one. take my offered hand 
And lead the way, for I am friends with thee. 

Reaper inexorable, since I have brought 
A fearless heart, unveil thy face to me! 

Thy cheeks are furrowed with the Ages* tears. 

Scant share you give of love, your step is slow. 
Subduer of the Soul, how many shun 

The realm you rule of buffeting and woe! 

But only grant me this, O you who reap 
What is already sown of love and hate: 

Grant I may bear with me a lifted torch. 
Cold Guardian Angel of the outer gate. 

A light for dying hopes that else were blind. 

Out where they thirst and faint, and fight and fall; 

A light to pierce the dark ways of the mind 
On some strong stanchion of the outer wall! 

It is not pity that a strong heart asks. 

Knowing that thou, the Reaper art the Law, 

And that each weaver must his separate tasks, 
But grant the light to see the pattern's flaw! 

38 



o 



TO MY POET FRIEND. 

(W. L. S.) 

I WAS young, and you seemed very old! 
You wore a silver crown and mine was gold. 

You thought me fair and sweet, I thought you wise. 
We looked at life through very different eyes. 

My feet were winged and yours were halting slow 
When we went roaming where the violets grow. 

And well we knew the place the wind-flowers blew. 
And every May your old heart blossomed new. 

And all its little, lilting songs were sung 
Perhaps because you felt that I was young. 

Now trenchant Time has tossed your quaint rhymes by 
Which no one ever cherished more than I, 

And since your too reluctant feet moved on, 
I have recalled you often, being gone. 

And thought that since those new fields you behold. 
You now may be so young you think me old. 



39 



LINES ON A GOLDEN WEDDING. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Melrose. 

'X'O those whose Jives are given to serve. 
There is no time. 
Days flow together like clear streams in summer. 
Or notes to music, or words that rhyme. 

Fair deeds and saving words what years can measure. 

Or time make dull? 
From such as these are coined Love's priceless treasure. 

For you made full. 

What span shall mark the length of high endeavor. 

Or break its cord of gold? 
Those whom it binds to God's unveiled Forever. 

Faint not, nor yet grow old. 



40 



THE BLANKET-MEN ON THE HIGHWAY. 

GRAY as the dust through which they trudge. 
With steps as slow as the mind of man 
To wake to the crimes he daily lives 
Against himself. 

Stooped and bent as the warped ideal 
The whole mass has of its own dire need 
To lift the thing it spurns. 

Old, like man's inhumanity, 

Gray, slow and stooped and bent and old. 

The shadow-shape 
Always and ever there beside 
The flowering, fragrant fields, — 
The gentle, patient spectre 
Treading the border of all happiness. 
To temper Love and Laughter, 
To dim the rays from Fortune's blazing eyes. 



San Joaquin Valley, April, 1917. 



41 



_._^ 



A 



DUSK. 

ND no pale ember lights the dying day. 

Fear has unloosed her troop of shadow things. 
Yet who that has not sensed the dark shall say 

What peace the glowing dawn bears on her wings! 



DAWN. j 

THE curtain, made of mist of dawn, | 

Is pinned back with a star or two. | 

Night flung a fleece-white carpet down. /' 

The vestal Day is passing through. .j 



42 



URANUS. 

Earth Voice: 

O magic star of conscious knowledge rise 
Upon our strange and variable world! 
What says the genius of your mystic light. 
Whose signals flashing on our drooping sight. 
Make visible the ray imperishable ' 

That binds and holds us to our home in God? \ 

I 
The Star: | 

'i 

I am the Knower in the sea of Light, j 

Where varied streams of truth and wisdom meet; ^ 

Where ebb and flood tide rhythmically swing i 

To common center, being ever one. | 

Look not for me in space, who fills all space -\ 

Between the high, white stars, : 

Nor wait for me in time, who knows it not. 
Within my glowing heart, I steadfast keep 
The covenant of Father with the Son — \ 

This — that you yet shall know as you are known; j 

And faithful is the One who promises. 
My gift is that clear, self-revealed jewel. 
Set like a third eye in the seeker's forehead. 
The gift of undimmed revelation's light. 
"Dark Angel" am I called by the unknowing; 
They, who have built their gods and images j 

Out of the dust of ignorance. i 

43 ! 



These, whom I love, I smite, and though I cleave 
Thy very soul and spirit, that which lives 

Is the Imperishable, 
Fire may not burn, nor water drown, nor evil blight. 
Swift chisel blows shatter the sculptor's stone, 
That his imprisoned angel may go free. 
Within the compass of my flaming sword. 
Whose blade is bathed in Light, lies Paradise. 

Look to thine heart if it be like the bloom 

Of lotus flowers unveiling to the sky. 

Petal by petal, waxen like with prayer. 

And at the center, gold of Love Divine, 

Fused in the driving flame of hallowed deeds. 

For such as these I open wide the way 

Into untroubled seas of open vision. 

Beyond the shore-line of the outer sense, 

A moment's journey back of quiet eyes. 

Where peace is born of Knowledge and of Truth. 



44 



PARADOX. 

^WEET is the valley wide and deep, 
'' With scent of every growing thing. 
Beyond, the orchard armies climb. 
Green regiments maneuvering. 
Out there the redwood forests lie. 
And miles of solemn spires uplift. 
The sands behind stretch white and wan. 
Where breakers curl into the sky. 
And ships sail out to where the sun 
Drops down to light the Orient's face. 
Yet we, both you and I, know well 
There is no space! 



Looking out to sea from the heart 

of the Santa Cruz Mountains. 



June, 1913. 



45 



A 



THE CUP. 

1 

"Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, 

And if the cup with sweet or bitter run." , 

— Rubaiyat. 

;i 

ND fallen Babylon is sifted dust I 

And Naishapur as rose-leaves blown away. I 

To the strong hand that holds the weaving cord, I 

A thousand years are even as a day. j 

A thousand times has sweet life brimmed the cup, ] 

The cup been broken, and the wine been spilled, \ 

And patient love regathered it again, \ 

And with itself a new, fair vessel filled. 1 

Was it for this the dregs ran bitter rue, j 

The leas brimmed red with measured joy and pain? j 

That out of tested knowledge One should rise i 

And sift the fragments and rebuild again! ;j 

Is it for this, O Lover Infinite, i 

The over-flowing cup of bitter-sweet, \ 

The spear-thrust, and the whole earth's travail pang, I 
All drooping heads, all pierced hands and feet? 

Then out of memory of flame-white thought, j 

Weave with all haste the holy samite veil, ■ 

For eyes too used to twilight open wide \ 
To look upon the cup, and see the Grail! 

46 

\ 



o 



INTEGER VITAE. 

NE came to me with love-lit, flower-wreathed head, 

A face with shimmering laughter over-spread, \ 

A golden robe of youth, with blossoms wrought, j 

All clasped with little jewels of idle thought. j 

"You have forgot me soon," she whispered low. 

(She was my other self of days ago.) i 

**You who loved love so, laughter, and the praise 

Of friendly eyes, and all the pleasant ways, 

Do you recall how blithe the meadows were, i 

How cool the wood, the fern, the forest fir? ; 

Does beauty not rejoice you any more, j 

That you forget me, and the days of yore?** ] 

(She leaned so close, the twilight shadows through, | 

Her coaxing eyes wore mist, as violets, dew.) \ 



sweet idolater, you cannot see 

With the new vision Love bestows on me! 
The tenderness we shared in flov/er and leaf 

1 seek now in the magdalen and thief. 
Caresses that we gave the meadow grass 
I save for all the weary ones who pass. 
And all the fragrances of hedge and lane. 
As blest anointing do I use again. 

You, who are less than shadow, count it true. 
Love forgets nothing which Love's spirit knew. 
This is my answer, wide I fling the door. 
Go, without bitterness, and come no more! 

47 



NEPTUNE. 

KNOW a star that rises in the sea, 

Out of the East of unformed promises. 
Out of the East it glows translucently. 

Marking the point of light, of things-to-be. 

Fair, with the clearness of the crystal dew. 

The diamond's steel its living, vibrant blue. 

Its center blinding pure, as altar flame 

Glows when white nuns have said a nameless Name. 

If, as is said, its quivered beams shall fall 

Like silver arrows, far aslant the wall 

That holds the sandalled pilgrim to his way, 
His holden eyes were blinded by its ray. 

So there are stars whose strange, attenuate lipht 

Has not yet reached the earth-bound travellers* sight. 

I know a star that moves with majesty 

Across the heaven's night of mortal thought. 

Glowing with fire of Love's persistency 

Above the lowliest place, men set at naught. 

Above the least discerned, unheeded place. 

It clothes the clay, and deifies its face. 

So does it rise upon the sea of woe. 

Treading the waves, leaving its path of light. 
As one whose garments make a trail snow-white 

Through murky, shadow places as they go. 

48 



It leads, O God, adown abysmal dark. 

Into the desert trail of loneliness. 
And vigil silences, all white and stark 

Where Strength is fused deep in the soul's recess. 

Whoever it shall shine its light upon, 
It is as if some strong, great, angel wing 

Had touched him, pointing sternly up and on. 
So that he can but heed its summoning. 

If he but see with slow, half-opened eyes 
The faint, pale nimbus of the outer rim. 

Straightway he must from his dull sleep arise. 
No more unthinking hours shall be for him. 

He must needs follow, and if he shall keep 

Some treasured evil, hidden still and deep. 

His star, straight piercing through the veil of sense. 
Shall sear to whitest ash, his poor defense. 

Its jealous, molten beam with light alone 

Transmutes to flame, that which is not its own. 

What of the caravan that follows thee, 
O risen light-bearer above the sea? 

Above the fretted sea of aims and fears 

Mortal delusions, unillumined years. 
The magi see behind the outer veil. 
And shepherd hearts still trace the hidden trail. 

49 



Beauty, frankincense of the Spirit's breath, 

Strong myrrh of faith to fold the face of death. 
Fused, molten gold of selflessness they bring 
To build the race of God whose light shall spring 

Full-glowing from the fervor of thy ray. 

Who sees shall heed, who feels shall yet obey. 



50 I 



I 



THE GUEST. 

MADE my heart into a silent thing. 
"Come, be you hushed," I said, '*of clamoring.'* 
There came such stillness, one could hear 
White spirits on the wing. 
Hidden in robes of light One draweth nigh. 
*'Who comes?" **The Prince of power and peace am I." 
I ask of him what lowly entrance by. 

"Not flower-starred path or gate all garlanded 

Nor through the noise of thine heart's throng and press. 

The Ever-silent is to silence wed. 

I enter through the door of emptiness." 



51 



M 



NAMASTA!* 

ARVEL of God, how clean the Spirit in me 
Pierces my outer wrappings, and false seams 
To a white center, where there vivid glows 
Like light, translucent through the silken sheath 
Of leaf-buds newly born, the Self of you! 
O Love Divine, that even through human eyes. 
Can rend the sordid fabric, woven of lies 
And ghost delusions, till they yield at last 
Their thickened mesh, like shadow at white noon. 
So strong with living power your Spirit gleams 
That massive strength of body only seems 

A fragile shell beside it, 
And your shadow-self but a pale stranger 
Dwelling upon the threshold of your door. 

How often and how eager, serving hands 
Yearn to unclasp the outer garment's fold, 
Which, to your outer sense, would bind at times. 

And weigh like metalled mail. 
Yet eager hands, the while, must wait the Law, 
Which wraps the joyous lily in the earth, 
Until its own flame at its living heart. 
Shall burn its way through black and deadened husk. 
Into the lifted glory of its flower. 

*Hindu salutation: The Divine in me greets the Divine in thee! 

52 



Beloved, this your destiny! Even now 
The glory is upon us, that the Self 
Of me, which folds the prisoned lily close, 
The One who laid the snow on mountain crests, 
And called clear water out of desert springs. 
Looks on the Self of you, as in a glass. 
And knows the Eternal One. 



53 



UPLANDS. 

BELOVED, have we found the upland trail. 
Emerged at last from mist and shadowing hill? 
The God of destinies whose laws fulfill 
The ways of love, does that One not prevail? 

Strange journey, what though its beginning lay 
As far as some faint, distant-lying star. 

If it has come the open, upland way 

Where lifted eyes and certain knowing are! 

Look out and see the wide horizon's rim. 
Completed circle of the cosmic chain. 
Ocean's infinity and flower-lit plain 

And purple hills like clouds, float soft and dim. 

Beloved, have we found the upland ways. 
Fearless with vision, leaving realms below 

Like faint-remembered gardens of lost days. 

Where swooning-sweet, the mourning lilacs grow? 

Lost tints of dawn, shades of the sunset glow. 
Hold in the white light of the open sky. 

All loves are theirs, who may the Christ-love know. 
All pilgrim paths meet on the uplands high. 



54 



TO ANY GALAHAD. 

'OUL, make you a distant journey, 
' As one who fares alone? 
Seek you across the land. 

Beyond the sea, the Holy One? 

Look you, the seas are wide, my soul, 

The land is steep and far. 
And zeal would drive you out beyond. 

Where storm and tempest are. 

Heed you, and bide in peace, my soul. 

Stay you the journey's quest. 
E*en now, within the ship there bides 

A sweet and silent guest. 

Halt then, the straining search a space. 

Turn you all joyfully. 
Close in thyself behold the One 

You fare so far to see. 



55 



THE BEDOUIN IN THE DESERT. 

GOD grant my soul and body may be white. 
Through darkness have I come with little strength. 
And I have found the way a weary length 
Fighting strange shadows, fearing in the night. 
Somewhere stretch peaks, where snow in summer lies. 
As wings of gulls unstained have kept their flight. 
As starlight filtering from venter skies 
Comes as white starlight to my dust-dimmed sight. 
So keep my soul upon its earth-marred way. 
I love Thy courts, though frail the love I bring. 
The tents of those who love Thee not delay 
My lagging feet, with foolish loitering; 
Yet with my litde strength, ere it be spent, 
I lift my soul. Lord God Omnipotent! 



56 



I 



OUT OF THE MISTS. 

SEE things not as they appear, 
I hear the sounds that all men hear. 
As one in drunken dreams I rove. 
Yet with no power to change or move. 

Then call me as a trumpet calls 
A fainting soldier's laggard heart. 

And I will answer though I wrench 
The baffling walls of death apart. 

How long they sleep who lay them down 
Before the work of time is done! 

There is no hour for lives to break 
Between the dawn and sunset gun. 

Great God of universal things. 

Give me the life and will to work! 

Let me close up the gaping line. 

Forsake the shades where dreamers shirk. 

How long they sleep who sink to rest 
Before the hour of battle won. 

Tempted to have the brown earth's breast 
To lay the beaten head upon! 

57 



Yea, God of universal things, 

I no more care what world, nor crave 
The long, soft days, the purple seas. 

The slant of moonbeams on the wave. 

The coming of the early light 

And sights and sounds of sunlit day. 

The misty coolness of the night, 
The unforeseeing, human way. 

I have forgotten half I learned 
In tenure long of time and stress. 

Why did life put me numb asleep, 
Night blot the day's white loveliness? 

How long to wait the soul's release. 
And by what chance do epochs end? 

Shall any turn of strife or peace 
Bring out to me one saving friend? 

How dim and far the old way seems 
To one who waits and gropes so long. 

Dreaming his heavy, drunken dreams. 
Twisting the threads of right and wrong ! 

The light flares faint, a smouldered spark. 
From out the long-gone world of things. 

Who was it went into the dark, 
I, or my world of wanderings? 

58 



1 



SEA VOICES. 

HEAR a thousand voices in the sea. 
The passing peace of crooning, cradle songs. 
Lost in the wild, free laughter of the child, 
Where slipping shallows, trill to opal pools. 
The sullen murmuring of souls at war 
With God, themselves and shifting destiny; 
Dull, futile anger, smiting at the shore. 
And hushed and soft, the whisper of the spray 
Brings lovers' voices, undismayed, apart 
From world confusions, chafing at the heart. 

Sounds of soft crying, back of dreamers' tears. 
Whose dreams go down to chaos, and the sharp. 
Half-stifled cry for freedom, in the Soul. 
Solemn, the Spirit's valiant battle-song 
Of evil conquered, flings its vibrant note. 
The deeps of blue, tender and infinite 
Cover the silent, never-spoken words 
Heard only in the souls of dear-loved friends. 

I hear a thousand, mingled voices blend 
Into one urging Voice, transcendent strong. 
Calling from out the depths of men and things. 
Out of the sea of change and restlessness, 

59 



Out of the fevered sleep of fear and stress, I 

\ 

i 



'I, I am in the midst of thee whose arm ^ 



Holds and controls the ebb and flow of tides. 
Within thy chaos lies My rhythmic law 
Unbroken and uncheated of its end. 



60 



ALLEN SEELEN. 

THE yellow maples sift their golden leaves, 
October sunlight flames the woodland through. 
Bright grass but for a space has touched the hill 
And all the colors signal me of you. 

The wild rose by the spring's but tangled briar — 
This is your path, the meadow brook beside. 

And then the sombre road a little way. 
And then, I see the gateway open wide. 

O yes, I know so well I shall not hear 

You laugh your welcome through the open door. 

My heart has learned, yet reaches searchingly. 
I know, and yet I turn for one face more. 

They have grown gentler since you went away, 
(Your step is O, so light they do not know 

The kiss you give me sweet and mistily. 
The sun upon your hair, your eyes aglow.) 



61 



T 



SILENCE. 

HE fragrance of the garden every year 
Makes me remember, dear. 
The fragrance of your years and how you went 
With eyes unfearing, youth-days still unspent. 
The fragrance of the garden, and the note 
Of some leaf-hidden robin, in whose throat 
Are mingled joy and tears, remind me how 
You were so glad — ^you are so silent now. 



62 



w 



MOUNTAIN LILAC. 

HAT see you adream on the mountain's breast. 

Than the hue of the dawn more fair? 

Little clouds adrift that the wind shall lift 

To fade in the April air? 

All shimmering pale as a wind-blown veil 

By a fleeing goddess worn, 

So silvery sweet the lilac bloom 

Lies caught in its tangled thorn. 



63 



w 



WILD FORGET-ME-NOTS. 

ILD, blowing things on the windy hill. 
Blithe in the fresh, spring weather. 

What did you say on a glad, free day 
When two friends came together? 



What are the words that I almost hear 
When the March-time comes each year? 

*'Once we were blue with the heaven's hue, 
Growing brave, in the fresh, clean air. 

And the trail's strong light 

Turned us virgin white 
In its purifying glare." 

Sweet prophets, what counsel gave you to me 
When the noon beat high, and the wind was free? 

"Forget me not if the trail lead far 

Into ways where no star-faced flowers are. 

And gird you with wisdom and gird you with strength, 

If the trail have a sinuous, wearying length. 

The valley, mist-shadowed, leads out to a hill. 

Forget not the steadfastness faith must fulfill. 

And that once we were blue as the sky and the sea, 

And that now we are white as your soul longs to be. 

Rest not, with strong feet on the trail, face the light 

Till the blue-glowing flame in your lantern burns white." 

64 



LOBELIA. 

"•RAGILE, flimsy, spirit flower 

Burning out your strange, blue flame. 

It was in a dreaming hour 
That you came. 

Quivering, doubtfully you grew. 

Seeming not to understand. 
All the while enfolding you 

A divine, great hand. 

Planned it not a pleasant place? 

Love that lit, and warmed and fed. 
Faith that watered out of grace. 

Lavishly the garden bed? 

Lithe, mysterious, garden child. 
Flouting even love and faith. 

For the joy of growing wild. 
Fading like a misty wraith. 

Vivid, strange, evasive thing. 

Open out your monkish hood. 
Drink while faith is watering. 

Take the gift of love for food. 

65 



Bide within and light your fire. 

Angel feet may pass you by. 

While you wander, wilfully. 
What if love should tire? 

Winds are harsh when flowers are frail. 

What if faith should fail! 



66 



CHELA. 

S Joseph's coat was wrought of many colors. 
As stars flash beams the banded prism through. 

As sun-darts glint the face of running waters. 
So gleams the spirit's varied light through you. 

Your world the hidden kingdom is, behind you. 

Infinite Hinterland of silent things. 
Abide in it until its Lord shall find you. 

Rise with the strength of steadfast, soaring wings. 

Treasure unnamed, unguessed, your hands shall gather. 

Your heart the source shall be of living springs. 
Your mind shall burn the straight, white beam of 
Knowing 

Into the crying, suppliant need of things. 



67 



ST. JOSEPH'S LILY. 

LL of the light that sifts from stars and planets 

Upon the mountain's breast, the changeless snows, 
All of the gleams that flash from sails awinging. 
Thy spirit knows. 

All censer smoke before dim, virgin altars. 

All flame-pure thought, that swift shall vanquish 
death. 
Incense of praise, sweetness of singing children. 
Are in thy breath. 

All of the gold in deepest, hidden places. 

Or gleaming walls of Solomon have worn. 
Or fused in souls' white crucibles of sorrow. 
Thy heart has borne. 

And never didst thou strive, the victory 
Is that fair peace held in thy lifted cup. 

In stillness has the spirit lit thy light. 

The mystery of love has raised thee up. 



68 



o 



THE URGE. 

UT of high vision. 
Substance of faith's prayer. 

And vigils only watching stars did see. 
One bid me work and consecrate and weave 
Something to set you free. 

Into the vigil and the faith and prayer 
I wove myself, and saw the fetters fall. 

Freedom forgets how soon the chafing iron. 
The leaden heart, the looming prison wall! 

One set you free although you could forget. 

The stars remember, vigil stars and I. 
And still One bids me work and weave and love. 
God knoweth why. 



69 I 



TO A LITTLE BOY GROWN UP. 



H 



ERE*S to the sea-shore, "Alice** days 
When we talked about the whiting, 
The walrus and the carpenter 
And fairies, giants and fighting. 
Here's to the coming glorious days. 
Strong hopes and high endeavor. 
Colors to win, good faith to keep. 
Forever and forever! 



70 



CHIMES. 



(Triolet) 



I 



N the silent night-time. 
When the air is still. 
Then I hear the bells chime. 
In the silent night-time. 
Sounding like an old rhyme 

Sung across the hill. 
In the silent night-time 
When the air is still. 



71 



SONG OF CANDLE-LIGHT. 



w 



ITHIN me in a place apart, I 

A cloistered corner of my heart, I 

For you I keep a candle lit | 

Whenever you shall turn to it. ;^ 

It is a still and steady flame 'i 
That lights when I have thought your name. 

For you I keep a candle lit, I 

And even though you turn from it, | 

It glows the same, — the same. | 



72 



TO BENNIE ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY. 

IN this land of no thatched roofs or fairies. 
That doesn't stay green very long. 
In the land that's way over the prairies. 
The love of a friend's just as strong. 
They say hearts are big in old Ireland, 
And perhaps on the whole it is true. 
But out in the land of the poppies. 
There's plenty of heart-room for you. 



73 



SONG. 

(To Kipikane) 

THERE is blazing light where your islands lie. 
And veils of cataracts cloudward fly. 
And the sunlight drenches the thick-meshed grass 
And the ships to the far east silent pass. 
And cocoa palms swing their signals high. 
Against the sky. 

The looming range, like a purple cloud. 
Shakes the rain and wind in the canyon loud. 
And the bow of the bended rainbow span, 
Joins the arc of God to the heart of man. 
And the silver plumes on the miles of cane. 
Stand tall in the sun, swing cool in the rain. 
They float on the wind as the feathered foam. 
And brown, bare feet go wending home. 
And bent backs rise from the taro patch. 
The nets hang wet by the fisher's thatch. 

The sky is a burnished copper bowl. 
The clouds ride through like the winging soul. 
The wind lies still and the stars gleam white. 
On the islands falls the night. 

Honolulu. December. 1916. 

74 



TO MY COMRADE-AT-ARMS. 

'ODAY I am in love with you, — today 
There's something in the tender, tilting sway. 
Of brooding branches, makes me also lean 
To touch you, as the leaves and winds caress. 
O sweet the lure, the lure that pulses through 
The clear, insistent call of linnets' throats, — 

Such glad and plaintive notes, — 
That brings me swift to cover 
Of your strong, clean heart, my lover. 
Today I am in truth in love with you. 

Tomorrow, God, tomorrow! Who shall say 
What symbol stalwart Destiny doth hold 
Half hidden in her muffled garment's fold. 

Is it a cross or scourge? 
Already she has beckoned, and we rise 
To face our work with undeluded eyes. 
Stung by the lash of all the Ages' pain, 
Lit by a torch we know can never pale. 
Girded with armored faith in Right which lends 

Strength to endure, alone. 

O Love, may we not keep of this today 
Treasure and joyousness of all it holds? 
Or in relinquishment of that, our own. 
Do we attain to that vast world of Light 
Where every hungry heart is ours to feed? 

75 



Where every pulsing ardor shall be met 
With waters of that satisfying spring. 
Which, waiting lies so still in us today,— 
And for tomorrow and her awful need. 
May widen to an ocean infinite. 



July, 1917. 



76 



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